Felix notices, the moment he glances Jim's way. Maybe it's hard to tell, if you don't know Jim and don't know what to look for. But Felix does. Felix has been watching like a hawk for exactly those subtle shifts in his lover's demeanor, because it is that time of year and Jim is far, far too skilled at hiding his wounds until they drain him dry.

He doesn't address it directly, but he shifts his mug to his other hand so he can slip his arm through Jim's. "And I'm certainly not going anywhere without him."

"Or hurrying back to face the music, I'd wager," Marcella says dryly. "Still, a few days... you'll see most of the festival then. Would you like to visit the arena? I can arrange us good seats for the games - I know half the smiths in the district."